The Last of the Flatboats

by George Cary Eggleston

  CHAPTER VI

  THE PILOT

  The boys went hurriedly back to Vevay. They had cargo enough and tospare. Indeed, they feared they might have difficulty in bestowing itall on their boat. And the rise in the river was coming even earlier andfaster than Phil had calculated. They must get the Vevay part of theirload on board and drop down to Craig's Landing before the water shouldreach their freight there, which lay near the river. So they hired afarm hand to watch the goods at the landing and hastened to town.

  There they worked like beavers, getting cargo aboard, for it was no partof their plan to waste money hiring anybody to do for them anything thatthey could do for themselves. They loaded the boat under Perry Raymond'ssupervision, for even the tightest and stiffest boat can be made to leaklike a sieve if badly loaded.

  Finally, everything was ready. The town part of the cargo was wellbestowed. Ed Lowry had deposited his books on top of tiers of hay bales,in between barrels, and in every other available space, for there was noroom for them in the little cabin at the stern, where the boys mustcook, eat, sleep, and live. The cabin wasn't over twelve feet by ten indimensions, and a large part of its space was taken up by the sixsleeping-bunks. For besides themselves there was a pilot to be providedfor.

  His name was Jim Hughes. Beyond that nobody knew anything about him. Hehad come to Vevay, from nowhere in particular, only a few days beforethe flatboat's departure, and asked to be taken as pilot. He was willingto go in that capacity without wages. He wanted "to get down the river,"he said, and professed to know the channels fairly well.

  "If he does," said Ed Lowry, "he knows a good deal more than most of theold-time flatboat pilots did. With the maps I've secured I think we canfloat the boat down the river without much need of a pilot anyhow. Butas Hughes offers to go for his passage, we might as well take himalong. We may get into a situation where his knowledge of the river, ifhe has any, will be of use to us."

  So Jim Hughes was shipped as pilot of _The Last of the Flatboats_.

  When all was ready that gallant craft was cast loose at the Ferry streetlanding, and as she drifted into the strong current, there was a cheerfrom the boys on shore who had assembled to see their schoolmates off.

  "She floats upon the bosom of the waters," cried Irv Strong, "with allthe grace of a cow learning to dance the hornpipe."

  Irv was in exuberant spirits, as he always was in fact. He was like sodawater with all its fizz in it, no matter what the circumstances mightbe, and just now the circumstances were altogether favorable.

  "I say, boys," he cried, "let's have a little dance on deck! Tune upyour fiddle, Constant."

  Constant dived into the cabin and quickly returned with his violin,playing a jig even as he emerged from the little trap-door at the top ofthe steps.

  Phil did not join in the dance, for he had discovered a cause ofanxiety. Their pilot was making a great show of activity where nonewhatever was needed. From the Ferry street landing to "The Point" thecurrent ran swiftly in a straight line, and if let alone, the boat wouldhave gone in precisely the right direction. But Hughes was not lettingher alone. With long sweeps of his great steering-oar he was driving herout dangerously near the head of the bar, now under water but still ashoal.

  Phil, who was observing closely, called out:--

  "I say, Jim, you must run further inshore, or you'll hit the head of thebar."

  "Lem me alone," said Jim. "I know the river."

  Just then the boat scraped bottom on the bar. Phil called out quickly:--

  "All hands to the larboard oars! Give it to her hard!" and himselfseizing the steering oar, he managed by a hair's breadth to swing thegreat box--for that is all that a flatboat is--into the deep and rapidchannel near the Indiana shore.

  As she drifted into safe water, Phil said:--

  "That's incident number one in the voyage."

  "Yes, and it came pretty near being chapter first and last in thelog-book of _The Last of the Flatboats_," replied Irv Strong.

  For several miles now there was nothing to do but float. But Phil wasclosely watching Jim Hughes and observed that that worthy made threevisits to the hold,--as the cargo part of the boat is called,--goingdown each time by the forward ladder and not by the stairs leading tothe cabin.

  When the boat reached the big eddy about half a mile above Craig'sLanding, it was necessary for all hands to go to the oars again in orderto make the landing.

  Presently Phil observed that Hughes was steering wildly. His effortswith the steering oar were throwing the boat far out into the river,away from the shore on which they were to land, and directly toward thehead of a strong channel which at this stage of water ran like amill-race along the Kentucky shore on the farther side of Craig's bar.Should the boat be sucked into that channel, she would be carried manymiles down the stream before she could ever be landed even on the wrongside of the river, and she could never come back to Craig's Landingunless towed back by a steamboat.

  Phil, seeing the danger, asked: "Why don't you keep her inshore?"

  "None o' yer business. I'm steerin'," answered the pilot.

  One quick, searching glance showed Phil the extent of the man'sdrunkenness,--or his pretence of drunkenness,--for Phil had doubtsof it. There were certain indications lacking. Yet if the fellow wasshamming, he was doing it exceedingly well. His tongue seemed thick, hiseyes glazed, and his walk across the deck appeared to be a mere stagger,supported by the great oar that he was wielding to such mischievouseffect.

  There was not a moment to be lost if the landing was to be made at all.Phil called all the boys to the larboard sweep and went to takepossession of the steering-oar. Jim Hughes resisted violently. Phil,with a quietude that nobody had ever before seen him display understrong excitement, picked up a bit of board from the deck, and instantlyknocked the big hulking fellow down by a blow on the head.

  The man did not get up again or indeed manifest consciousness in anyway. If this troubled the boy, as of course it must, he at least didnot let it interfere with his duty. He had a difficult task to do and hemust do it quickly. He gave his whole mind to that. The boys obeyed witha will his shouted orders to "pull hard!" then for two of them to go tothe starboard oar and "back like killing snakes." In a little while theboat swung round, and Phil called to Will Moreraud to "take a lineashore in the skiff and make it fast." The youth did so, just in time toprevent the boat from grounding in the shoal water below the landing.

  When everything was secure and the strenuous work done, the boy sankdown upon the deck and called to his brother.

  "See if I've killed him, won't you, Ed? _I_ can't."

  A very slight examination showed that, while the blow from the bit ofplank had brought some blood from the pilot's head, it had done noserious damage. His stupor, it was Ed's opinion, was due to whiskey, notto his chastisement.

  Nevertheless it was a very bad beginning to the voyage, and Phil wasstrongly disposed to discharge the fellow then and there, and trust, ashe put it, to "a good map, open eyes, and ordinary common sense, asbetter pilots than a drunken lout who probably doesn't know the rivereven when he is sober."

  But the other boys dissuaded him. They thought that Jim's intoxicationwas the result of his joy at getting off; that they could find his jugin its hiding-place and throw it overboard,--which presently theydid,--and that after he should get sober, Jim's experience inflat-boating might be of great advantage to them.

  "You see," said Ed Lowry, "we've taken a big responsibility. All thisfreight, worth thousands of dollars, belongs to other people, and Isuppose half of it isn't even insured because the rates on flatboats areso high. Think if we should lose it for lack of a pilot!"

  "Yes, think of that!" said two or three in a breath.

  "Very well," said Phil. "I yield to your judgment. But my own opinion isthat such a pilot is worse than none. I'll keep him for the present. ButI'll watch him, and if he gets any more whiskey or plays us any moretricks, I'll set him ashore once for all if it's in the middle of anArka
nsas swamp."

  The river was rising now, more and more rapidly every hour. There wasthree days' work to do getting the rest of the cargo aboard and makingroom for it in the crowded hold. But at Ed Lowry's suggestion the boysavoided overtaxing themselves. The energetic Swiss blood in the veins ofConstant Thiebaud and Will Moreraud prompted them to favor long hoursfor work on the plea that they could make it up by rest while floatingdown the river.

  But under Ed's advice Phil overruled them, and it was decided tobreakfast at six o'clock, work from seven to twelve, dine, rest for anhour, and work again till five.